


Bad Days

by nicostolemybones (fatherlords)



Series: Nico Birthday Week 2020 [3]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Chronic Pain, Homophobia, Insecurities, M/M, Pain, Scars, not a main focus though, past/future, solangelo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22421923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatherlords/pseuds/nicostolemybones
Summary: I do not give permission for my work to appear on any apps nor do I consent to my work being reposted anywhere. If you see my work outside of my tumblr or outside of any blogs/accounts I mention in my fics, please report/contact them or inform me. If you report them, do not report as if it were your own work.//this fic has been edited to remove historical inaccuracy
Relationships: Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Series: Nico Birthday Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1611892
Kudos: 59





	Bad Days

"Mama, why is Nico so tired all the time?" Bianca asked quietly. Maria gave a sad smile, her hand running through Nico's hair as he slept in her lap. 

"I don't know, Bianca," she replied softly, 

"I just wanna play with him, mama," Bianca sulked, "but he gets too tired…"

"I know, sweetheart," Maria soothed, reaching out to pull Bianca closer, "that just means you have to treasure the moments you can play even more, no?"

"I know, mama," Bianca said sadly, "but sometimes he gets really loud and it's annoying, and he gets real upset if I tell him to stop."

"Bianca," Maria began gently, "I know this is hard for you, but things won't always be like this. You'll see. Why don't you tell me how school was?"

Bianca pushed herself up onto the seat next to her mom, looking down at Nico curled up asleep. "We did math again but I hate math! Why doesn't Nico have to go to school, mama? He's eight now!"

"He's… different," Maria explained, "he doesn't talk much unless it's about the gods, and he gets too frustrated with class, especially reading."

"School is boring," Bianca whispered, and Maria pulled her into a hug. 

Nico whimpered softly, opening his eyes. "Mama? Bianca? I'm tired…"

"It's okay, Nico," Maria soothed, "you can sleep."

"What if the ghosts come," Nico whimpered, "I can't sleep because if I'm asleep and the ghosts come I can't protect my sister…"

"I can protect myself," Bianca huffed, and Nico whimpered quietly. "And besides, ghosts don't exist. So there!"

"I've seen them," Nico huffed, turning his body further away from his sister and clinging tighter to his mom. "Mama?" Nico asked again, quieter this time. "What if I think the ghosts will come after me?"

"Why would they do that, kitten," Maria asked gently. Bianca shushed Nico loudly.

"Nico shush! I already told you to forget it!"

"Let your brother speak, little bee," Maria warned gently, and Nico sniffled. 

"I wanted to hold a boy's hand in the playground mama… and- I don't wanna marry a girl…"

"You're a child," Maria said quickly, and Nico huffed. 

"Girls stink!"

"You'll grow to like them one day," she said quickly, and Bianca blew a raspberry.

"All the kids were playing kiss chase and I kissed a boy's cheek," Nico confessed quietly, "I wanna do it again, mama. I wanna kiss all the boy's cheeks."

"You're confused… I don't think you should talk about this anymore, you're still just a baby, okay?" Maria replied gently.

"You'll find girls pretty when you're older," Bianca said quickly, "when you're grown up, like me! I didn't find boys handsome yet when I was so young!" Nico couldn't understand why she didn't find boys handsome, but he was just a broken kid, so what did he know? But he was sick of people treating him like a little kid, when he wasn't a little kid anymore.

"I'm tired!" Nico protested, tearing up. He didn't know how to describe how he felt, didn't realise the pit of pain and anger and confusion and sad were something else, so he said he was tired. 

"Then sleep," Maria prompted gently, and Nico found himself closing his eyes in the hope the uneasy pit inside of him would ease somewhat. Maybe one day, he would wake up happy and well.

-

Nico woke in a sweat, panicked when he felt the space beside him empty. "Will," he whimpered, looking around. Within seconds Will was by his side, stroking his hair, and Nico was shaking, and crying, and he couldn't get the sound of tortured souls screaming and monsters screeching ungodly cacophonous cries out of his head, out of the shadows. He was triggered and exhausted and he could already feel the pain in his legs and in his back, a dull ache that bored down to his core that he knew would flare up in sharp burns later on. But he was just so used to feeling like this that he pushed it aside and tried to focus his energy on forcing himself up. He struggled to sit through the pain flailing up in his back, and the burning strain on scarred muscle in his arms, and to his relief Will gently eased him up, propping him up against the headboard. 

"Are you okay?" Will asked softly, and Nico shuddered. It was cold out and damp and that made the pain worse, not to mention he'd exhausted himself yesterday by going for a run. Will cupped his cheek gently, brushing his thumb over his cheekbones, and Nico sobbed quietly. He could feel the callouses on Will's fingertips brush over his skin, unshaven because he was too tired, and he noticed them glide over a scar, no feeling, no pressure, before he felt Will's fingers again. 

"No," Nico replied quietly, "I'm sorry…"

"Why are you sorry," Will asked patiently, reaching up to brush Nico's hair behind his ear. 

"It's our anniversary," Nico said softly, and Will smiled gently, placing a gentle kiss on Nico's cheek. Nico didn't have the heart to tell Will that he'd kissed the scar, the one he had no sensation in, so he didn't feel it. He couldn't even feel Will's breath until he felt it fan around the scar. Will knew Nico had more to say, and he was patient, the soft comforting touches reassuring Nico that he could take his time. "It's our anniversary and… Will, I don't think I can… give it to you today."

"What do you mean?" Will prodded softly, running his fingers through Nico's hair, stopping to scratch small circles in his scalp.

"I don't think I can take you out or cook you a meal or… or anything tonight… everything hurts, Will and I'm so tired all of the time… I'm sorry…"

"It's okay," Will soothed, "our anniversary isn't about you forcing yourself to do things for my benefit, it's about loving each other and being thankful for how far we've come and everything we've been through together and spending the day together."

"I wanted it to be romantic, and passionate, Will," Nico whispered, "I can't give you that today…"

"It's okay," Will repeated, "we have every other day on earth to do those things. Today isn't about fancy meals and passionate affections, today is about being in love, and I am always in love with you, Nico. I'm your husband, you don't have to perform your life for my entertainment. You should live your life for your comfort, and if today is a day where you aren't able to go out, then we can stay in, order a pizza, snuggle up, you can rest, you're safe with me, Nico, we can rest today." 

Nico was too exhausted to argue back, to tell Will how frustrated he felt, that he felt like a bad husband, because he couldn't give Will what Will could give him, so he settled for slowly hauling himself out of bed and standing, walking shakily to the bathroom. His back hurt so badly and jolts of pain were tingling down his legs, his chest aching and his head thumping. It was hard to breathe. He had to sit to use the bathroom, but standing again was a challenge, the scars on his arm sending jolts of pain through his nerves, hypersensitive from the damage. He couldn't close his fingers around the bar Will had installed, and he couldn't straighten his fingers out either, his hands seizing up. He had to call for Will, deciding against a shower- he was in too much pain to be able to handle one after all.

Nico tried to walk to the kitchen, but he felt closer and closer to collapsing. He only became sharply aware of his surroundings when he felt Will's warm hand on his shoulder. "Nico," he said softly, and Nico let out a shaky deep breath. 

"I can- I can walk," Nico protested, and Will squeezed his shoulder gently. 

"I know," Will said softly, wrapping his arms around Nico's waist from behind and kissing the nape of his neck softly, "I know you can walk, but at what cost today? It's okay if today is a bad day, Nico, please don't exhaust yourself anymore."

"I wanted to be normal today," Nico admitted, and Will peppered gentle kisses along Nico's shoulder. 

"You are normal, Nico," Will soothed, "it's okay if you're struggling. Please, use your wheelchair today."

"I hate how it makes me feel," Nico pleaded, and Will took Nico's hand in his own.

"It's a mobility aid, Nico," Will said gently, "it isn't something that makes you weak and it isn't some way to shame you for not being fit enough. It's to help you move around. It doesn't make you undesirable or useless, it's there to help you to move around with as little physical discomfort as possible. It's there to be an extension of your body, it's a tool, and you desperately need it today." Nico sighed and allowed Will to gently guide him to sit in his wheelchair. Nico relaxed into it immediately, the pain in his legs easing considerably. 

"Thank you…" Nico replied quietly. Will wheeled him to the breakfast table, which was low enough for Nico's wheelchair to fit snugly, and sat besides Nico on a chair. 

"You're so beautiful, Nico," Will said softly, "so perfect." 

"I'm not beautiful," Nico whimpered, and Will looked close to tears. 

"Your scars don't make you ugly, Nico. And I know, I know your scars aren't neat and pretty and I know some are painful or numb or raised or triggering to think about, but they don't make you ugly and neither do your mobility aids. You are beautiful, Nico, you aren't ruined or broken, you're beautiful. I know it's hard, and I know how you feel when you look in the mirror, but your scars don't make you ugly, not to me. Never to me. And even if they did, your worth isn't based on how well you can perform conventionally attractive features. You'll always be beautiful, Nico, and I'll always love you. From the burns on your back to the scars on your arms to the bruises on your ribs to the scars on your face to your beautiful eyes and your beautiful skin and your beautiful hair and your beautiful voice, I love it all, Nico, I accept it all, every part of you. I wish you could see yourself how I see you, Nico. I am so proud of you, Nico… please, just let me take care of you today. I'll make you breakfast and we'll see if you're up for a stroll in the park with your wheelchair and if you're not then that's okay because we have more time to cuddle, and if you need to sleep, then sleep. We can look for service dogs, if you'll agree to it. We can afford one now, and you really need one, Nico. There are plenty of days for us to go on dates and have time alone together and go bowling like you want to. I promise. But today, we can rest."

"You're the best husband I ever could have wished for, Will… happy anniversary." Nico tilted his chin up, and Will met his lips in a soft and gentle kiss. Will made him feel beautiful, like he was worth something, listened to. It was okay to rest and recover, and he felt safe here with Will. He felt like things could finally be okay, for once, and they would be. He was okay.


End file.
